Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Once Ava had settled Esme Martinez in the guest room provided for every newcomer, she returned to the chamber she shared with her husband.
The arrival of the journalist meant something more than just another outsider being caught in the spell trap; according to what Esme had told her she had been invited by Renard Beaumont, the owner of the castle on the other side.
Ava and the other women who had met him were now sure he was Bodach, the dark Fae goblin who had apparently been the one to curse the clan.
Since she’d arrived, the goblin had been attacking them in order to find and capture the spirit of Torra MacBren, whose body-possessing power he meant to steal.
Why would Bodach invite reporters to come to the castle? What was he trying to do this time?
The scent of a hot calming brew welcomed Ava as she went into the large room, and also told her that her love was suffering a little.
As he had a mortal weakness to cold, Tasgall could not tolerate any kind of chilly conditions for long.
Although autumn had just begun, nights seemed to be growing much colder lately, Ava had noticed.
A few of the maids had complained that they could not keep the hearths stocked well enough for the clan to sleep comfortably through the night, something that had never happened before now.
Changes were never good things here.
Tonight Tasgall had wrapped up in his heaviest cloak, and was moving slower than he should have been.
Part of his problem with the cold was any long exposure kept slowing him down until he turned into a living statue, unable to move.
If he’d been alone he would have also added more wood to the fire, but he knew dealing with his problem could easily make her uncomfortable.
She did her part by dressing in a thin shift so she could better share her body warmth with him in bed, although most nights she didn’t wear it for long.
“How fares the lady?” Tasgall asked as he came to give her the steaming drink.
“She’s accepting this place and everyone in it a lot better than I did,” Ava admitted, setting aside the cup so she could slide her arms into his cloak and around his waist. The solidness of his big tough body and the comforting scent of his skin made her sigh with pleasure.
It still amazed her that this handsome, wonderful man had chosen to give his heart to her.
“You, on the other hand, seem to need your personal hot water bottle, sir.”
“Aye, that I do,” he said, and kissed her brow before doing the same to her lips.
Ava rarely indulged in public embraces with her husband, which made their private time together all the more intimate.
As they were both very reserved around others but deeply passionate lovers, it sometimes proved difficult.
She’d gotten into the habit of touching him only when they were alone so she wouldn’t lose control.
Now her heart wanted to hammer its way out of her chest; all she wanted to do was tear off her clothes and get right to work warming him and pleasing him.
Her head remained full of questions and worries.
“You know if you’d chop your own firewood, it’d warm you twice,” she said after she broke off the kiss. “What do you think about all these women wandering into the spell trap during the same event cycle? And why was your brother the one to find the reporter?”
“I cannae think when you’re in my arms.” He nuzzled the side of her throat. “We should retire early tonight, my hot lady.” He ran his knuckles over the tightly beaded peak of her breast. “Och, mayhap now, so I may bask in your arms, and your softness.”
She ignored the way her entire body shouted yes! and instead frowned at him.
“Trying to distract me with sex instead of talking about something you don’t want to never works, you know,” Ava reminded him. “Might as well holler down a well. You’re worried about Darro now. What’s the matter?”
“Naught escapes you, Wife.” He gave her a slightly chagrined smile. “’Tis how my brother looked after Mistress Martinez. ’Twasnae like him.”
“But he’s always nice to the outsiders, especially the ladies,” she said, puzzled for a moment, and then recalled how long the chieftain had held Esme. “Oh, you’ve got your tail up ’cause he likes her? Come on, hon. He’s a grown man, and she’s prettier than a peach pie at Sunday supper.”
“Aye, you’re right,” he said, still looking unhappy. “’Tis only that I’ve never seen him like that with any female.”
Ava had a good, if somewhat distant, relationship with Tasgall’s younger brother since she’d married the laird.
Now and then she’d caught Darro watching them, first closely with a hint of suspicion, and later with a slightly wistful look.
She suspected the latter came from preserving a certain distance with everyone at Dun Talamh; as second in command he had almost as much pressure on him as her husband.
No one spent more time alone than Darro except their solitary armorer, Rory.
Now she recalled that since she had arrived she’d never noticed the chieftain chatting up or spending time with any female.
He probably had a lover, although she wasn’t sure of that, either.
Her brother-in-law was a very private man.
“Any word on if Darro and the men found that creature?” her husband was asking her.
“None yet,” she said. “I doubled up the guards in that passage, and sent word to Alec. The chieftain said he’ll report to you once he’s done his search, and then we may know more. I really hope he catches it so Ben can have a look.”
“My thoughts as well. What do you think of this journalist?” Tasgall laced his fingers through hers. “You reckon she likes my brother as well?”
“Can’t say, really. I reckon we’ll find out.
” Esme might have a boyfriend or husband back home that she hadn’t mentioned, which would make things difficult for her here.
“As a journalist Miz Martinez likely has some investigative training, so I’ll ask her to join our next meeting.
She seems to know quite a bit about the castle in my world, too—assuming that’s all right with you, my lord. ”
“I trust your judgment as always, Wife.” He gave her the smile that made her thighs tremble. “Mayhap I should summon a guard for our door. He may tell Darro to report to me in the morning.”
“You’re shirking your duty as laird just so you can spend the whole night in bed with me,” Ava said, shaking her head. “I happen to love that about you, sir.”
Someone suddenly knocked on the door, and when Tasgall called for them to enter in a slightly exasperated tone, Alec McKeran stepped inside.
Tall as most of the McKeran but lanky and slender like his mortal mother, the clan’s war master had stunning features that masked a shrewd mind.
He was also night-deaf, thanks to his mortal weakness, which had been a problem until his wife had helped him practice reading lips.
She had also sewn together a stack of parchment cut into small rectangles, along with a piece of charcoal in a narrow tube of bronze provided by Rory.
When Alec became confused, he offered the notebook to have what was said written down, which also helped.
“My lady.” Alec bowed to Ava before he regarded the laird. “We’ve another female newcomer?”
“I’ve got one more stop to make tonight before bed. You boys catch up,” she said, blowing a kiss at her husband before leaving the chamber.
Ava went to the forge, where she stood outside for a long moment before knocking and walking inside.
Rory McKeran, the clan’s armorer, stood pounding out another two-handed sword; a pile of the same had been heaped on his finishing table.
The biggest man in the clan as well as the most physically beautiful, Rory appeared like some enormous angel who had fallen to earth.
Thanks to Keran’s blood he appeared more Fae than human, and had a mysteriousness about him that also seemed rather fantastic.
His personality, however, was as reclusive as a hermit’s.
As soon as he saw her he placed the red-hot metal in a quenching barrel, which hissed and bubbled, sending up swaths of steam.
Through that mist he regarded her with his crystal blue eyes, just as intently as she watched him.
It had taken awhile for her to figure out the reason. The moment she came near the armorer, she sensed the strong, inexplicable connection they shared—just as he did.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your work,” she said as she went over to join him.
She wasn’t uneasy around Rory, but lately she had noticed he had been avoiding her again.
Since they had become friends she made a point to look in on him regularly, but now she was wondering if she needed to do more.
How did one have an intervention with a giant who could use magic but couldn’t speak above a whisper?
As best she could, Ava thought. “I’d like to talk to you about something, if you’ve got a minute.”
“’Tis time I took a rest,” he said, careful to keep his voice low. He picked up a length of sweat-stained linen and mopped his face with it before regarding her. “How may I aid you, my lady?”